What Once Was Beauty…

from within the narrow tunnel
the howling paroxysm
of the sunspent sky
cunvulsions of hail & lightning
& all that had been, so subtle
so touched with that fair tip of
summer’s brush was blown wild & wide
with gaping seams torn, jagged gentle agonies tossed about like refuse
common became the corpse of such spendor

we sat, ragged & a little beyond,
in the netherworld, waking, but still finding the nightmare
lives & breathes, on & on


(Below, a small clip after it felt safe enough to return to the main floor after waking the kids & taking them to the basement) 


Our neighbour is a little wrecked up and that was the worst storm I’ve personally been in. Was super loud & super scary. Brief. But scary. Other parts of the city didn’t even get rain, while at our house it was so loud between the hail, the debris, the rain, and the wind I wasn’t sure that it wasn’t a tornado at the time. I was definitely concerned the willow would blow over. Had to get the kids out of possible harm’s way. Better safe than sorry. Made last week’s wind storm look like a sweet tree balet. I’ve never seen the trees bend that way. Wild weather these days. 

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